CHAPTER XXXVII.
RUNNING THE GANTLET.
The prisoner had, in the meantime, been brought out, and was sitting under a tree a few yards from the council ground, surrounded by a crowd of squaws and children and guarded by two young braves, who had not yet taken a scalp in battle, and, therefore, were not allowed to have any voice or vote in deciding his fate.
He was unbound. His friends, except Buffalo Bill, were with him. As he knew of this last effort which was being made in his behalf, he was, of course, waiting for the verdict in great excitement.
Congo was the first to speak.
“Here comes Massa Cody! He’s a-shakin’ his head an’ lookin’ berry sober. I reckon it’s all ober wid you.”
So it was. The decision was against mercy by a majority of fifteen votes.
A shout from the prisoner and a beckoning of his hands toward his friends showed that he desired them to come to him. They at once followed the rabble of squaws and children who were moving, with the condemned man in their midst, toward the place where the gantlet was to be run.
The lines were already being formed, almost at the same spot where the mimic punishment had taken place half an hour before.
Poor Hare now seemed too much frightened to stand any chance of escape in the ordeal that was before him—that was now so close at hand.